First Date
by mustlovecat
Summary: DL One shot. He wants her to know how much she means to him so he decides to do things right and take her out on a first date.


**A/N Another DL one-shot. **Set chronologically _before_ my other two pieces, The Sand Lot and Five Minutes. But this was too enticing not to touch. This takes places just a couple of weeks after the Snow Day ep (in my opinion, the most exciting hour of TV last season – and not just because of the pool table, though, … wow!). My stuff is not going to come out in chronological order, as you can tell. I'm just writing what inspires me!

**Disclaimer** – I own nothing, yadda yadda yadda.

Feeling his eyes on her, Lindsay turned around from her place at the stove. "What?"

Danny smirked. "I was just thinkin' that I've been ravishing you for days. I really should take you out somewhere, you know, on a real date."

Her face flushed.

He looked her over. She was wearing one of his button-downs – and _only_ the button-down. He was pretty sure that blue shirt had never looked that good on him. She had been stirring some pasta sauce on the stove when he had walked in, and it had taken everything in him not to drag her back to bed.

They had spent most of their time in bed the past couple weeks, whenever she was not at work. He was still on leave, his hand still casted, his bruises and cuts fading but his ribs still slightly tender. Had it not been for Lindsay, he was sure he would have gone crazy by now. He was starting to get bored and the hours when she was at work and he was left alone in the apartment seemed to drag. He could not wait to get cleared for a return to work, even if it was just desk duty for a while.

"What about Cozy's?" she asked, pulling him out of his reverie of thoughts.

"Our boss was there. Definitely not a date."

"Hmm. I guess that's true."

He walked over to her, wrapping her in his arms. "Besides, if it _had_ been a date, I would've at least got to first base," he teased her, his hand sliding up her side, grazing the bottom of her breast.

"Ah, I see. You think buyin' me dinner will get ya laid, Messer?" she kidded.

"I was kinda hoping."

She laughed. She leaned up and kissed him gently. "Seriously, you don't have to take me out."

"Well, what are we gonna tell people when they ask about our first date?"

She bit her lip. "There was the exotic cuisine in the break room."

"Stink beetle chutney does not a date make. I have a reputation to uphold, ya know."

"Oh, I'm not sure I want to be associated with _that _reputation," she teased him. She slid from his arms and went back to stirring the sauce simmering on the stove.

He walked over and leaned over her shoulder, inhaling the enticing smell of the marinara. How had a girl from Montana learned to make sauce that was ten times better than his Italian grandmother's? Lindsay was a mixture of contradictions and surprises, that was for sure. She had practically moved in the past couple weeks, insisting on taking care of him. He had learned much about her in that time, enough to know that he would miss her when she returned to her place. He also knew it was going to take a while to assuage her of the guilt she felt for him taking her shift and getting hurt because of it. But he was working on it. Bottom line, if he had truly ever been a player, he was relinquishing the status gladly. Danny Messer was all about Lindsay Monroe now and he did not care who knew.

"There's this great Mexican place I know in Brooklyn. Why don't I take you there tomorrow night?" he suggested.

Feeling his breath on her neck made her shiver – so did the thought that he was still intent on taking her out on a real date. "That sounds nice," she agreed.

"Or we could go all out and head into Manhattan."

She shrugged as she stirred.

He moved around and jumped up onto the counter beside the stove, using his good hand as leverage, trying to read her expression. "'k, Montana. Something's up. What gives?"

"Nothing."

"Right. What is it? The sex is great but you don't really want to be seen in public with me?" he kidded.

She looked up at him incredulously. "You know that's not true."

"Then what?"

"I just – I don't want you to think that you need to impress me or that I'm unhappy with the way things are. You don't need to go to any trouble for me, that's all."

"Okay, sweetheart, first off, doin' something for you like taking you out for dinner is really no trouble. Second, you really need to stop thinking that I don't owe you anything just 'cause I got hurt, okay? I am so glad that is was me in that warehouse and not you. I mean, I woulda broken at least six laws tryin' to get you out and that would've done no one any good. And there's nothing wrong with me that's not going to heal. Besides, you're standing here right now, makin' me dinner wearing nothin' but my shirt. Trust me, whatever got us here was worth it."

She blushed again, lowering her gaze back to the dinner she was working on.

Danny hopped back down off the counter and reached out of her, wrapping his right arm around her waist and drawing her to him. "So, how 'bout it? Dinner tomorrow night. Leave it all to me."

Lindsay smiled at him, his excitement contagious. "All right."

The next day while she was processing a scene with Hawkes, a text message came through on her cell phone: _I'll be by your place at 7:00pm. Dress up._

Hours later, Lindsay was looking herself over in her bedroom mirror. She had picked out a red halter dress that fell just above the knee. She bit her lip in contemplation, wondering if this was sufficient. His text had been cryptic. What he considered dressing up might not necessarily match her definition.

The sound of the building's intercom lured her away from her thoughts. She walked into the living room to answer. "Yes?"

"Buzz me up, Montana."

She laughed at his demanding tone. She obliged, then gave herself one last look in the hall mirror, grabbed her silver pumps, and slid them on as there was a knock at her front door. She anxiously walked over and opened the door to Danny.

For a moment, both were speechless. She looked absolutely beautiful, he thought. And he looked positively gorgeous. He was dressed in a black suit, a crisp white shirt underneath, the first couple of buttons left undone. She had never seen him in a suit before, had she? She could not recall. He definitely carried it off well.

"Wow! Sweetheart, you look … Man, you're beautiful," he stammered.

"You clean up pretty nice yourself," she smiled.

He flashed her his trademark smirk, and she considered skipping dinner and heading straight to dessert. He produced a single red rose from behind his back and handed it to her.

"You sure know how to score points," Lindsay teased him.

"C'mon. We got reservations in half an hour."

She grabbed her jacket and followed him out. "Where are we going?"

He waited for the elevator doors to shut before he replied, "Armando's. It's this great –"

"I've heard of Armando's. Don't you have to make reservations there months in advance?" she asked in shock.

"Yeah, well, I called in a couple favours. Nothin' but the best for my girl."

She shivered at him referencing her as his girl. She shook her head with a smile. "You really are the best, you know that?"

Outside her building, he hailed them a cab. The ride to the restaurant was filled with eager anticipation of the night ahead. She told him about the case she had been working, he told her about an interesting article he had read in the Times, and when they arrived at the restaurant and were waiting for the maitre d' to seat them, she wondered why she had ever tried to talk him out of this.

As they were seated and given menus and the wine list, Lindsay's jaw dropped as she started perusing the two.

Danny caught her expression. "It's okay, Montana."

She leaned across the table, lowering her voice. "But, Danny, I had no idea this place was so expensive. This is too much."

"Hey, there are no limits tonight, okay? Sure, we might be drinkin' beer and eatin' buffalo burgers for the next six months, but tonight, no limits."

She laughed softly. "Only if you're sure."

He nodded. "I'm sure. We only get one first date, right?"

She bit her lip in contemplation then as she turned back to the menu.

He just watched her, enjoying the intense look of concentration on her face. It reminded him of how she looked when she studied evidence, how she never did anything half-way. It was that expression that had first drawn him to her.

Dinner was incredible. They shared a bottle of wine, enjoyed the succulent entrées and split a crème brulée for dessert. Conversation flowed easily, as it always did for them.

On the ride back to her apartment in the cab, she settled into his side and his arm draped over her shoulder.

"Tonight was amazing," she sighed.

"And it's not over yet."

She looked at him with raised eyebrows. "What makes you think I'm the kind of girl who puts out on the first date?"

"Oh, I know exactly what kind of girl you are," Danny teased.

Lindsay was glad it was dark in the cab so he couldn't see her face turn crimson. She had never been with anyone before who was so overtly sexual with her. But that was Danny, and it was one of things she loved about him. Mostly because she knew that as blunt and daring as he was with her, it was _only _with her. There had been several beautiful women in the restaurant tonight, and he had given none of them a second glance. His eyes had only been for her – it had been that way for months, and he had no idea how she appreciated it.

"Although," he added, causing her to escape from her thoughts, "I would hope that you would never sleep with me because I bought you dinner."

"How 'bout because I love the way it feels when we're together?" She hoped her own attempt at being somewhat brazen did not sound as goofy as she feared.

Danny's lips grazed her earlobe and her fears were quelled. "That I can live with."

She turned and met his kiss. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For the best first date I ever had."

"I hope it's your last." He kissed her tenderly, enjoying the feel of her proximity.

The implication of his statement sent a thrilling shiver all the way down to her toes. Her last first date. Yep, she could work with that.


End file.
